Complexity in the garden

Making a space for rest

This week would usually be a video post. This is also the week that I planted the annuals out into the garden (am planting, actually). I also added a bunch of perennials, and decided to pretty much re-do the herb garden, which entailed digging most of it up — most of it being weeds — and not worrying too much about trying to find and save some of the herbs in the mess.

All of this is, of course, happening while the tulips continue to bloom, the peonies and irises are right on the edge of opening, and the lilacs have peaked and are beginning to fade. As I work to get more plants in the ground and “finish” the spring clean-up, I make mental lists of the new projects I want to start. The garden is in a state of maximum complexity. While stimulating and exciting, it is also tiring — definitely not the restful space I am trying to create and enjoy.

So this week, as a way to make space for quiet creativity, I dove into another project in my studio. I mostly emptied it out. The timing seemed kind of nuts, but in order to make art, to be able to notice the details of the plants I love to paint so much, I need some empty, quiet space. When the room was mostly empty, and after taking a big, deep breath, I decided that for half of the room, all I would put back was a small farm table by the window. Nothing else. And that space was an invitation to spend a few hours just enjoying.

I went into the garden and cut an armload of lilacs to bring inside. It is the best time to prune them anyway, so I didn’t hold back. I put vases of them all over the house, made some photos, and let that be the art this week. Just enjoying and appreciating the abundance.